


Champagne & Pie & Sex

by Jacqueemackee



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Chirping, Drinking, Food, Food Kink, Food Sex, Gay Sex, Gift Fic, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Sexy Times, Silly, Vore, You Have Been Warned, a tribute fic, also consensual, because this started out fun and silly and innocent and then jack got carried away, bitty is careful with the sheets, but fully consensual, but it's very mild i swear, chapter 1 is the filthiest thing i've ever written, chapter 2 if the least sexy fanfic i've ever written, everyone needs a sex towel, sex towel, sex while slightly buzzed, towels are your friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 11:00:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16061741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacqueemackee/pseuds/Jacqueemackee
Summary: They qualify for playoffs during an away game. Jack rushes home to celebrate in his apartment with Bitty during his last days of spring break, a bottle of champagne stowed in his bag to find a half-naked boyfriend and a sex pie waiting for him. What's a NHL player to do when he wants to eat pie, drink champagne, AND have sex with his boyfriend?Bitty licks his ears and whispers, "Sweetpea, you can have it all."





	1. The Sex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SunshineAndaLittleFlour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineAndaLittleFlour/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Taste it on your skin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14868645) by [SunshineAndaLittleFlour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineAndaLittleFlour/pseuds/SunshineAndaLittleFlour). 



> So SunshineAndaLittleFlour is doing this "Brunch is..." future series about Jack and Bitty trying out suggestions from a sex box. I made a comment about "inappropriate use of baking supplies" which Sunshine turned that into fic #9 of the series. I found a particular line of that fic extremely inspirational and wrote my own sex pie fic in homage to it. 
> 
> Set during spring of Bitty's junior year. NHL playoffs begin in the middle of April so I'm saying they qualified while Bitty was on spring break. Some caution for unexpected vore overtones that neither of the boys realized in advance. I also tried to follow Sunshine's example of present tense and emphatic Capitalizations but I am very new to both so please be gentle with your feedback.

They've made playoffs. They clinch a wild card spot on an away game and Jack wants to celebrate but it's too hard to let loose so far from home and with only being close to a few of his teammates so he takes a hearty swig from Tater's (first) bottle of champagne, then tucks his own into his bag to bring home and share with Bitty.

 

He texts Bitty when he's leaving the airport and when he walks into his apartment he discovers his boyfriend booty-dancing in the kitchen in tiny shorts and an apron, no shirt, Queen Bey blaring on the speakers. There's a plate of high-protein healthy snacks and a bottle of cold Gatorade on the island next to the maple-crusted apple pie responsible for the delicious fragrance of the place and- Jack is confident- at just the right temperature for warm, gooey devouring without burning the roof of his mouth. Bitty's timing is Beyond Perfect. Speaking of timing, it's only 2 and a half days before spring break is over and Bitty has to head back to the Haus for the end of term. Jack needs to make the most of it.

 

He eases his bag down gently and tries to shut the door quietly but Bitty hears the quiet click of the latch above the noise and is instantly launching himself up and into Jack's arms. Jack delightedly staggers back against the door under Bitty's weight and gets a firm grip on his ass before kissing him again and again and again before giving up under the onslaught and tilting his head back while Bitty devours his ears, throat, and shoulders. When Bitty at last returns to his lips, Jack steers them back into the kitchen and sets Bitty down next to the food on the island. They feed each other the snacks and Gatorade between kisses and licks and hurried catching-up talk and by the time the plate's clean, they're both flushed and hard and a different sort of Hungry. 

 

"Bits," Jack groans. "I have missed you so damn much and all I want to do is take you to our bed and keep you there for the next two days. But I also want to drink the bottle of champagne in my bag with you and celebrate making playoffs in a gloriously tipsy fashion that would make Shitty proud. But I also really, really want to eat this pie."

 

Bitty hums thoughtfully. "So..... who says you have to choose?"

 

Jack pulls his mouth away from the mark he's leaving on the side of Bitty's neck and looks him in the eye. "You don't mean....?"

 

"You have a mattress pad on your bed, right? I'll go grab a spare top sheet and extra towels, you grab the champagne and the pie."  


"No forks?"

  
"No forks. So maybe an extra pack of wet wipes, too."

 

More water also sounds like a Good Idea. And their toothbrushes and toothpaste and cups to spit in if they're so absolutely tired afterwards that they can't stagger into the bathroom to take care of necessities. And a wet washcloth in a bowl in case the wipes alone can't handle the stickiness. By the time Jack has the nightstand covered and checked that there's a small trashcan handy, Bitty has covered their bed with 2 extra top sheets and made a big rectangle on top of that with 4 beach towels. The pillows are left alone but Jack knows that's because Bitty made sure they were encased in sealed, hypo-allergenic pillowcases several months back.

 

They pop the champagne in the kitchen over the sink after a brief discussion about shaking, spraying, and the resultant clean-up. He offers Bitty the first sip straight from the bottle, locker room style, then takes a drink himself before they both dissolve into hiccups.

 

"So that's why they shake it first."

 

"Or pour it nicely into champagne flutes and let it sit a minute."

 

"Good lesson there."

 

They both giggle and Jack puts his thumb over the opening and shakes it gently over the sink to ease some more bubbles out before they carry the bottle and pie, gently steaming, into the bedroom. Bitty kneels up on the bed and reaches for the bottle to take a more careful swig before setting it on the nightstand. He reaches for Jack and when Jack seats himself next to him, Bitty straddles his lap, grabs his face, and seals their lips together, gently tilting the champagne into his mouth before following up with his tongue. Jack reluctantly pulls back to swallow then dives back in, licking the champagne taste from Bitty's mouth. Jack swigs a big mouthful of his own but he's overeager and pours too much in Bitty's mouth too fast and his boyfriend shoves him away, sputtering and gasping, as champagne trickles down his chin and slides down his throat. And that....  _oh._

 

Jack pauses just long enough to put down the bottle and yank his shirt off before he's on it, stopping the longest champagne trail with his tongue and tracing it all the way back to Bitty's jaw before starting again with the next-longest, and then the next. Jack hums at the heady taste mixture of champagne and Bitty's skin, lost in a Cup-celebration fantasy, and Bitty moans in response. Jack tracks the last sticky line all the way up to Bitty's lips and devours him in a fiery kiss. He's not sure if his head is buzzing from the champagne or Bitty's skin or the playoff run about to begin that hasn't really sunk in yet. He doesn't care, especially when Bitty surprises him with a quick nab of the bottle and a hard shove backwards. 

 

He topples onto the bed, terry cloth feeling soft but utterly Different under his skin as Bitty squeezes his thighs around Jack's hips and tilts the bottle menacingly over Jack's chest with a gleeful smirk. "Now, Mr. Zimmermann, where to start?" Jack flexes just to see Bitty's grin widen before it fades into a thoughtful frown. "Oh dear... we have a problem here. You don't seem to have any spot on you concave enough to hold liquid. Hmm...."

 

Jack smiles innocently and flexes again as Bitty considers him carefully. Finally, he tilts his graceful throat back and takes a long swig before dropping suddenly to Jack's chest and fastening his lips over one nipple. The sensation feels odd at first and then Bitty suddenly opens his mouth, keeping it tight and firm against the skin and.....  _oh_. Champagne is flowing over and around his nipple, swirling under and on Bitty's tongue, little bubbles fizzing in tiny micro-bursts of sensation. Jack tries to provide Feedback, like they've promised to do with each New Thing they try, but it comes out, "Bitty.... Bits... Bud... what you're  _doing_... ehhnnnn...  _mon Dieu,_   _Bits._ "

 

Bitty sucks hard as he slowly closes his mouth again and pulls back, swallowing hard. Jack loves watching his Adam's apple bob up and down that slender, delectable throat, loves to feel it Move against his lips or under his tongue, loves to think of all the things that causes it, whether it's excitement, shy nervousness, or- best of all- a load of Jack's come sliding down, down, down after another amazing blowjob. Speaking of....

 

"My turn," he grinned, grabbing the bottle from Bitty with one hand and trying to flip them with the other without spilling any. Now it's his turn to closely examine Bitty's body and come to the same conclusion. It'd be so hot to pour the champagne over his nipples or the lines of his abs, but the liquid would just run right off his body and onto the bed and leave it covered in damp spots with only sticky trails left on the skin. "Next time we're trying this in the tub."

 

He takes a big swallow, then a more careful drink, before setting the bottle down and slowly, so very gently, dribbling the champagne into Bitty's mouth. He licks into his mouth, chasing the flavor, before roaming to explore his still-sticky throat then sitting back up. He likes this, but he’s still a bit hungry, and Very Concerned about getting so buzzed it affects his, ah, Performance. "Guess it's time for pie, then."

 

He reaches for the pie tin, then hesitates. It feels like the ultimate sacrilege to eat one of Bitty's special pies with his bare hands like this. But Bitty said he didn’t have to choose between celebration, sex, champagne, and pie….. and this _is_ supposed to be a celebration…

 

He gently eases his fingers in near the edge and is startled by the sensation of the warm, gooey filling enveloping his fingers and oozing under his nails. He carefully scoops out a handful and takes a bite, moaning at the rich, mapley, appley goodness chasing the champagne on his tongue. He takes another bite and Bitty swats his thigh. “Hey now, do I get included at some point?”

 

“Sure, Bits,” he grins and then drops the rest of his handful in the middle of Bitty’s chest, watching it splatter over Bitty’s nipples while the blonde shrieks in surprise and faux-outrage.

 

“Eesh, it’s all warm and gooey.”

 

“Thought you’d be used to having your chest covered in thick, wet stuff, Bits.”

 

“Oh, ha ha, Mr. Zimmermann. This has _chunks_ in it. And _crumbs._ ”

 

“Guess I’d better clean you up, then.”

 

Jack leans down and licks delicately at the mess, working from the outside in until it’s all centered in the middle and he can lap it up. Or try to. His tongue can’t actually pick up any apple pieces or sizable chunks of crust so at some point he gives up, opens his mouth wide, and just Dives right in. Filling smears across his face as his teeth lightly scrape Bitty’s skin again and again until there’s nothing but a sticky patch left. Bitty’s noises during all this are just Delectable.

 

“I need more,” he declares before scooping up an even larger handful and distributing it evenly onto Bitty’s nipples. This turns out to be more difficult though, the pectorals defined enough that any spilling slopes off to either side and crumbs threaten to cascade down. He eats more quickly this time, being sure to nip gently at Bitty’s sensitive peaks with every bite, a difficult task given that his plate keeps squirming beneath him.

 

Jack feels tipsy and turned on and just so darn _Happy_. He doesn’t have to choose. He can have Bitty and sex and champagne and pie and a NHL career and a playoff run and the sexiest boyfriend that ever lived and a huge bed in a soundproof apartment to combine all the things that Jack likes best in life. He can have it _all_.

 

He grins greedily and fills his hand with more pie, the cinnamon, brown sugar, maple, apple aroma doing Wonderful Things combined with Bitty’s sweat and the lingering taste of champagne in his mouth. He reaches his hand out to Bitty’s mouth as if to offer a taste, then pulls it away when Bitty controls his gasping enough to lick his lips and make a begging face.

 

“Hey! Jack, that’s not fair! I haven’t even tried some to make sure it turned out right yet!”

 

“Ah ah ah, Bittle,” he chides. “Serving dishes don’t get a say.” He laughs at his boyfriend’s indignant sputtering then plants his hand, palm-down, on Bitty’s abs, smearing the big chunk of pie in a roughly even layer over his defined abdominals.

 

“Oooh, that feels _weird_. The crust is soft and flaky, but still kinda rough when you rub it like that.”

 

“Shhh, serving dish. You’ll get a turn when I’m done.”

 

“Why, you little- minx! Scoundrel! The nerve of you!”

 

They’re both giggling now, and Jack watches the pie chunks jiggle on Bitty’s stomach until they nearly overflow before clamping down his thighs more tightly over Bitty’s and pressing his chest back into the bed with one hand to hold him still while he eats. He eats everything off the flat planes of Bitty’s stomach but leaves the filling in the ridges between the muscles, marveling at the contrast and trailing a sticky finger in the gooey lines. Sadly, Bitty is far too ticklish and squirmy for it to be all that sensual or arousing so after a minute Jack pins him firmly down while he licks up the rest. The next scoop goes back into the middle of Bitty’s chest and Jack eats it with as much tongue and teeth as he can manage as Bitty’s giggles subside back into gasps and the occasional impatient, wriggling moan. He sets the pie tin down long enough to take a swig of champagne, loving the way the bubbles pour over the stickiness in his mouth, then picks the tin back up to contemplate his next move.

 

“Oh no, you don’t, Jack Laurent! That’s your hungry face, not your sexy face! You’re just plain _eating it_ at this point, you- you Heathen!”

 

“And I suppose you have a way to make eating pie any sexier than I already did?”

 

“Is that a challenge, Mr. Zimmermann?”

 

“Maybe.” He smirks at his flushed, sticky boyfriend. “You think you’re up for it?”

 

“Hand over the pie and I’ll show you how a True Foodie does it.”

 

Jack carefully sets the pie down on the nightstand before easing off his boyfriend, who immediately scoots off the bed to strip naked and wipe down his chest and abs with the washcloth. Bitty’s only half-hard now, his arousal having eased off a little from all the giggling, but his eyes flare dark and greedy as he shoves Jack onto his back in the middle of the towels and strips him down too, before straddling his hips. Jack hisses as their naked bodies press together, then gasps as Bitty slides up to reach for the champagne, taking a long swig with head tilted back, eyes shut, before swallowing visibly. Jack holds back a moan as he watches Bitty’s Adam’s apple bob down and then up, then can’t help himself as he watches Bitty tongue the rim of the bottle and lick his lips.

 

 _“Crisse_ , Bits. _S’il te plait_ ….”

“Please what, sweetpea?”

 

“Forget the pie and make me come. Please. It’s been so long.”

 

“Ah ah ah, Zimmermann. You gave me a sexy, pie-eating challenge and I intend to conquer.”

 

He grabs the pie tin off the nightstand and slowly slides his thighs down from Jack’s chest to past his hips and flexes them once, hard, grinning as Jack shivers at the sensation. Jack knows he’s a Slut for muscles and being pinned down and Bitty dominating in general but their tentative forays into BDSM so far have been so careful and thoroughly talked out in advance while this… this is unfamiliar and new, with the champagne and the pie and them both quite tipsy, and Jack has absolutely No Idea what will happen next.

 

He loves it.

 

Bitty delicately scoops up pie on two fingertips and sucks them into his mouth, tongue darting out and around to catch every crumb as he eyes Jack’s naked body. His dick is suddenly Very Interested in being covered in pie and then swallowed by Bitty, but he doesn’t know how to ask, doesn’t know how to form words when Bitty’s cheeks hollow with the force of his sucking and he watches those slender, strong fingers slide in and out of his boyfriend’s perfect mouth. Still, he has chirping duties to maintain.

 

“That….”, his voice catches in his throat. He licks his lips, tries again. “That doesn’t count as eating. That’s barely a taste. And I’m not even involved. Sexy pie eating… not proven.”

 

“Oh?” Bitty arches one perfect eyebrow and eyes first Jack’s face, then his aching dick, then his face again. “Well, Mr. Zimmermann, if you insist.” And he scoops up a huge handful of pie, cradling it carefully as he sets down the pie, then suddenly wraps his whole hand and the entire Mess around Jack’s hard cock.

 

Jack _shouts_ because it’s warm, warmer than Bitty’s skin, and the filling is squelching out the top of Bitty’s grip and dripping down the bottom and the chunks feel _weird_ sliding against his skin and the crust is rough but not and Bitty had tried to warn him but this.... this… well, this is something he has never experienced before, and words are failing him in both languages.

 

Bitty bends down to nip at the chunks that have reached his pubic hair and _crisse_ , that’s going to be a mess to clean up later. Bitty laps and licks around the base but is so careful not to catch any hair in his teeth. Jack spares a passing thought to marvel at his boyfriend’s care and consideration in the midst of their buzzed shenanigans but it quickly disappears as Bitty works up to his shaft. Jack squirms and clutches at this hair as Bitty licks so lightly that Jack can feel the gooey layer of filling sliding in-between tongue and cock. After several excruciating minutes of oral clean-up all the chunks and crumbs are gone, and Jack thinks Bitty is close to granting him mercy. But then he shifts up, sits, reaches for the pie tin, and Jack almost groans in disappointment, desperately wanting to be done with the food aspect and on to the orgasms. Bitty carefully swirls his fingers, scooping up nothing but filling before easing back and wrapping a hand around Jack again, stroking loosely up and down as if experimenting with a particularly thick and novel form of lube.

 

Jack isn’t sure if the sounds he’s making are words, but he knows he’s begging and hard and he knows Bitty knows it, too, and there’s a wicked grin spread over that beautiful face as it inches down, down until a Heat hotter than pie engulfs the head of his cock.

 

Jack yells to the ceiling as Bitty’s free hand keeps him pinned and stops his helpless, urgent thrusts up for more, more, more, more and a wet, sticky tongue laps thickly over him again, again, again. Jack is being devoured alive and he loves it, wants Bitty to take him down, eat him up entirely until he’s taken apart and there’s nothing left and he’s inside Bitty forever.

 

Bitty’s mouth slides open and over him as far as he can go, then his lips clamp down in a tight seal as he sucks slowly back up. Jack gasps as cool air wisps over the suddenly pie-less parts of his dick in stunning contrast to the warm thickness wrapped snugly around his base and the hot mouth at the head.

 

He barely manages to choke out a warning as the heat and sensation build and build until it feels like he’s drowning in it and he’s just about to tip over the edge, just needs that slightest bit more pressure when Bitty pulls back _again_ and fills his hand with pie.

 

Jack writhes with Frustration. He thinks he’s whimpering but he can’t tell as the pie makes contact with his dick and it feels just as strange as ever, too many textures, not enough pressure, but then Bitty’s mouth is back and it’s hot and tight and the suction is so perfect and he’s crying Bitty’s name as he explodes, chasing his release in that wet, familiar mouth he knows almost like his own hand.

 

Then he’s crying out for a different reason because after that first, glorious spurt Bitty pulls off and just holds him tightly and Jack is coming to the cool, open air and down his own dick instead of being lapped up and swallowed and imagining himself sliding down his boyfriend’s hot, tight throat. He pants through the aftermath, wordless with aftershocks and disappointment, but Bitty just grins even bigger, wrapping both hands around him now and carefully scooping as much pie up and off of him as he can before tipping his hands forward to show him the result. And _crisse_ , there he is, Bitty’s joined hands piled high with apples and filling and crust and over the top of it all is Jack’s come spilling over the top of the ruined pie like cream topping, like melted ice cream. Jack has coated one of Bitty’s finest culinary specialties and now, _mon Dieu_ , Bitty is raising his hands to his face and biting into the mess. He grins around a mouthful, never breaking eye contact with Jack, apples and filling and crust and come smearing across his cheeks and Jack’s cock tries to twitch to life but he can’t, he just can’t, he’s absolutely Drained and all he can do is watch as his come disappears bite by bite, lick by lick, into his boyfriend’s mouth as his beautiful eyes smirk at him. After what seems like a small eternity, Bitty’s hands are empty and he’s licking and sucking at his fingers, then delicately wiping at his face and lapping that up, too.

 

Jack still can’t Words, can’t English or Quebecois or anything else, but he can damn sure still _act_. He thrusts another pillow under his head then grabs Bitty’s hips and drags him up, up, and forward until his hard, beautiful cock is filling Jack’s mouth and he’s sucking hard. He wraps one hand around Bitty’s shaft and squeezes, moaning around the head and lapping wet and fast, intent on showing Bitty how it feels to be utterly consumed. Bitty _ate_ him, used his come to top off one of his precious pies, devoured the Whole Thing, and Jack sucks until his cheeks hurt, moans until his throat’s sore, and digs his fingers into Bitty’s hips until they cramp from the grip and Bitty is crying his name and flooding his mouth. He swallows, then swallows again as the last few spurts dribble onto his tongue, then laps Bitty’s cock clean and savors the taste, reaching out one long arm to grab the champagne bottle, carefully maneuvering it over Bitty’s hips and trying to tip it into his mouth before his boyfriend laughs, takes the bottle away, and does it for him. The bubbles feel strange fizzing over the thicker come on his tongue and he’s not sure even an expert sommelier could describe the Taste Combination he’s experiencing right now. Bitty takes his own swig, carefully sets the bottle back down then swings one muscled thigh over and off his chest and collapses bonelessly at Jack’s side.

 

“That…. That was….” Jack swallows and tries again. “Was that the champagne…? Or the pie…? Or the playoffs….? Or just how awfully long it’s been since we’ve last been alone together and anything we added to the mix would have turned out utterly filthy?”

 

His boyfriend laughs breathlessly. “All of the above, sweetpea. Welcome to the hedonistic lifestyle of closeted multimillionaire star NHL players with secret baker boyfriends. You get the Pie and the Champagne and the Celebration and the intense built-up Horniness on top of the Bodies and Metabolism of dedicated collegiate/professional Athletes.”

 

“Put it that way, my life’s pretty sweet.”

 

Bitty groans weakly at the joke and shoves his face into Jack’s chest. “We need to clean you up. I’m just… having trouble moving at the moment. So much pie.”

 

“And come.”

 

“And come. Pie à la Jack-mode.”

 

“Mmmph.” He wants to come up with a good responding chirp, something about topping and Bitty getting enough protein and cream pies… protein-topped pies? And he needs to clean up but he’s just… so tired… orgasmed into Exhaustion and he has absolutely no idea how much he’d had to drink but it’d been months since he’d had more than a single beer at a time. Soon. He’d clean up and come up with a chirp soon.

 

He has no idea how much later it is when Bitty nudges him in the side then shakes his shoulder. He still feels exhausted and empty except for a quite full, almost sloshing, stomach and he’s Sticky and Gross in a way that no workout had ever made him. He shifts and tries to stretch and oh, _merde_ , the filling caked into his pubic hair had congealed and now was pulling painfully at every movement. “ _Crisse_ , I’m disgusting.”

 

Bitty snickers and slides out of bed, straightening the towels left behind so Jack can struggle out of bed without his body touching the sheets. “And _that,_ sugarpie, is why we wash the dishes as soon as we’re done baking.” He eyes the filling Situation between Jack’s legs and then adds loftily, “ _Especially_ the serving dishes!” Jack groans and swipes at him but he just giggles and slips off to the shower, Jack limping gingerly along behind.

 

The resulting shower is one of the longest and most thorough of his life, but Jack can barely stand for it. He slumps heavily against the tiled wall while Bitty laughs and fusses over him and chirps constantly about sugar scrubs being good for the skin. Everything’s all blurry and fuzzy around the edges and he’s feeling sort of floaty the way he does sometimes after a really intense orgasm. Bitty’s cheeks get rosy in a steamy shower and when he’s well-fucked and when he’s tipsy and now he’s all three and the apples of his cheeks are practically Red with the combination. Jack snorts softly and gooses his boyfriend’s ass.

 

“Hey now, Mr. Zimmermann, what’s that about? What’s so funny?”

 

“Apple… you… apple-cheeked. You’re rosy apple. Red apples. All cheeks. Ass cheeks. Didn’t eat pie there, but….”

 

“Alright, mister, no more shower for you. Here, brush your teeth while I dry you off. Poor helpless athlete, can’t handle his tipsy food sex…”

 

“I can do… food sex. But you… ate me. Put me on _pie_. Kink? Eating someone? Fetish?? Being eaten? Izza name…?”

 

“Are you talking about cannibalism, sweet pea?”

 

“ _Non._ Sexy eating. Kinky stuff. We did…..?”

 

“Um, well, I think you’re talking about vore, sweetheart, and that’s not really something I’ve ever thought about or looked into ever. Why, honey, did that do something extra special for you?”

 

Jack frowns and considers it while he reluctantly brushes the taste of pie and come and champagne out of his mouth, replacing it stroke by stroke with sterile, minty freshness. He carefully swishes and spits away the last, lingering traces of their night while Bitty bustles around in the bedroom, whisking off towels and top sheets and changing pillowcases before proclaiming their bed satisfactory and sleepable.

 

It’s not until they’re curled up together under a new sheet and the previously banished duvet that he answers Bitty’s question. “Not… eating not special. Tastes so good. Pretty fun mixed with sex. Everything’s fun with you, Bits. But not… not fetish. I just…” His voice trails off to barely a whisper, but he forces himself to finish before sleep pulls him under. “Just want to be inside you all the time. Just want you to be in me… always. Carry me around with you. Us together. No… no more separation. Always… connected.”

 

“Oh Jack,” Bitty whispers back. “I love you, baby. I love you so much. Always and forever.”

 

The words sound very floaty and far away. Jack wonders afterward if he dreamed them.


	2. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finds out what happens afterwards if you let your boyfriend devour you and pie simultaneously....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Doctor is kinda a slut-shaming, cisheteronormative jerk. If you prefer your sex to be not just kinky but also magical and utterly devoid of reality, feel free to skip this chapter entirely.

Jack and Bitty are both miserably thirsty, but not too hungover, when they wake up Friday morning. Jack makes his morning protein shake with extra fluids and Bitty even condescends to drink part of it alongside their usual breakfast. They have sex, hit the gym together, make dinner, have sex again, and pass out. Saturday they go for a long, lazy run through Roger Williams Park where Bitty gets distracted, as always, by the pony rides, the swan boats, and the mini-train that circles one of the ponds. As always, Jack promises to take him on all of them one day, “one day” being code for “after he’s out and the public has lost interest.” Sex on the couch after lunch somehow segues into a marathon snuggling and watching Great British Baking Show session. Dinner is romantic with candlelight and Jack’s heirloom set of fancy dishes from his grandmother.

By Saturday night, however, Jack is feeling just a little bit off. A twinge between his legs, almost an itch, that feels like it has nothing to do with how many orgasms he’s had since getting back from their roadie Thursday night or how badly he’ll miss Bitty (and getting laid) after taking him back to Samwell tomorrow morning. Not enough for him to really worry, but enough for him to beg Bitty to top just in case there’s something wrong. He doesn’t give a reason, or at least no reason beyond how sexy his boyfriend is when he’s in charge and how much Jack loves being spread out beneath him and at his not-always-tender Mercy.

Sunday morning he blows Bitty in the shower and then kisses him passionately while Bitty finishes him off with a slick, conditioner-coated hand. Jack tries to be brave while driving Bitty back to Samwell but he knows that between the end of the school year for his boyfriend and playoffs for him that they’re not going to see much of each other until reading week. They escape to Bitty’s room in the Haus for their not-quite-teary goodbyes and Jack kisses him again and again and clutches him tight but declines the offer of one last quickie.

On the way home, he picks up a quart of 100% cranberry juice and eliminates all refined sugar _and_ fruit from his diet for the rest of the day in favor of drinking that and double his usual amount of water. By that night the discomfort is still mild, but constant now, and urinating is distinctly uncomfortable. He tells himself it’s probably just a sign of lingering dehydration and forces himself to go to sleep without Googling his symptoms on WebMD.

Monday morning is Bad. He gasps in pain and has to brace one hand on the wall during his wake-up piss just to stay upright. Now he wants to deliberately dehydrate himself just to avoid doing that again for as long as possible. He limps into the arena an hour early to be checked out by the team doctor.

Dr. Chapman frowns at his gait and asks why Jack is seeing him and not the team’s trainers. Jack uses his best monotone to lay out the onset and intensifying of his symptoms as concisely as possible, leaving out any mention of sex and burning with shame at having to admit that there is something Wrong with his dick.

Dr. Chapman makes a few notes (Jack clenches his fists at the thought of there being some record of this) and sends him off to pee in a cup and hand it over for testing. Jack manages to stay silent in the exam area’s bathroom by cramming his fist into his mouth and biting down on his knuckles. Back in the examination area, the doctor eyes him sternly over his glasses. “And how much unprotected sex have you had in the past three months?”

“I…. what?”

“How many times have you had sexual intercourse without a physical barrier in the past three months? Vaginal and/or anal intercourse in particular.”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t _know_?” Dr. Chapman looks shocked and mildly horrified. Jack can see the headlines running through the doctor’s eyes: _Jack Zimmermann, Party Boy Slut!_ Jack realizes suddenly that Dr. Chapman must not be on The List of Falconers’ staff in the know about him and Bitty. “All incoming Falconers are required to go through testing and education on the importance of always using protection for the sake of their health and that of their partners.”

 _Crisse_ , he probably comes across as one of those rookies who lets the fame and the money get to his head with no thought to the consequences. “I…. it’s not like that.”

“Not like what, exactly? Do you at least have an idea as to the number of partners?”

“Yes! One, just one! I- we- we’re exclusive. We both got tested before we started having sex and we’re monogamous.” That’s not entirely true, Bitty had offered to get tested as a formality but he’d had no opportunity in Madison and as soon as he was in Jack’s apartment last August, well…. Jack hadn’t been worried, anyway, not where his formerly virgin boyfriend was concerned. And he had gotten himself tested, 6 months after his last partner and again the week after kissing Bitty, just as a precaution.

“And you’ve had absolutely no sexual contact with anyone else since then?”

“No, none. I’m not a cheater.”

Dr. Chapman just keeps looking at him for a long moment. “And…. How confident are you in your partner’s fidelity?”

Jack fights to keep still, to not react, to let the hockey robot take over, to not shout in this horrible man’s face about how _Dare_ he suggest such a thing about Bitty, his Bits, the Sunshine in his life, the Light in his eyes, the- no. Control. Professional. His voice comes out like ice. “Absolutely confident.”

“Have you done anything lately to introduce any foreign substances to the area? If it’s not a STI, it’s likely an UTI. Your body could be reacting badly to anything unusual that’s come into contact with your genitals recently. If you’re particularly sensitive, even something as innocuous as a sugar scrub could affect you.”

“Euh…. sugar? Sugar would be bad?”

If anything, Dr. Chapman looks even more Incredulous now. “Yes, Mr. Zimmermann, sugar is _very bad_  for your urethra and urinary tract. If it’s present, bacteria can feed on it and multiply at a truly alarming rate. While it’s something most women have to worry about it if they use sugar scrubs or other ridiculous bath products, it’s much more uncommon for men to have anything with sugar in it around their genitals, much less introduced to the head of their penis in such a way as to enter the urethra.”

Jack was gripping the edges of the exam table pretty hard before, he’s white-knuckling them now. His face has gone from pale with Fury to burning with Shame. Sugar. _Mon Dieu_ , how will he ever explain this to Bits? He finally manages a small, “Oh.”

Dr. Chapman gives a long sigh. “How many days ago was your exposure?”

“……Thursday night.”

“Were there repeated incidents or just the one?”

“Just the one.”

“Good. Make sure it doesn’t happen again. And have you penetrated your partner vaginally or anally since then?”

“No.”

“Also good. UTIs are not contagious in the usual sense but the bacteria can be passed from one partner to another if you’re not careful.”

“I…. no. Something didn’t feel right, so I didn’t…..”

“Good. If something doesn’t seem right, abstaining until you get checked out is always the best choice.” Jack doesn’t mention that he didn’t Abstain, exactly, just got on all fours for his lover and got fucked until he came all over the sex towel beneath him on the mattress. But he didn’t penetrate, no.

“Yes sir.”

“It’ll be another hour or two before the full results come in because, confident about your partner or not, we need to test for a full range of STIs and not just a UTI. You’re cleared from practice for today but be prepared to pick up a course of antibiotics. Depending on what we find, you may be on them anywhere from 3-10 days. Absolutely no sex until you’ve completely finished the medicine and all symptoms have been gone for a full 24 hours. If the results are positive for a UTI and you start the antibiotics by late this morning, you should start feeling relief by tomorrow and be cleared to resume practice, with caution. Now head on home for the day and take it easy. Here’s a list of things you can do to relieve the pain and discomfort and encourage a quicker recovery.”

“……thanks.”

“Oh, and Mr. Zimmermann? I’ve heard you’re the one bringing in the Nook pies but the American Pie thing is _not_ to be replicated in real life.”

“Euh… okay?” How could he have guessed that pie was involved? Jack didn’t breathe a word about desserts or sex acts or anything else. And what could anything American have to do with either pie or sex?

Home…. He had to tell Bits. How was he going to tell Bits? Did he have to tell him? Could he just pretend that the pie thing was a one-time-only adventure he didn’t want to repeat, fun as it was? What would happen if he just… didn’t say anything? He wasn’t going to see him for another three weeks, at the very least. He texted his apologies to the captains, coaches, and Tater as he limped back to the parking lot and slumped into the driver’s seat of his car. He had a text from Bitty waiting for him. _Hi honey! I miss you already. Can’t stop thinking of this weekend and all the fun we had. You think next time might be even better with something smoother and crust-less? I was thinking chocolate mousse…._

He had to tell him. Honesty was important in any relationship, and especially so in an already secretive, semi-long-distance one. Now he just had to figure out how to do it in a way that wouldn’t leave Bitty full of guilt and blaming himself for Jack’s current Situation. He took a deep breath and decided to put it off for a minute by Googling “American Pie.”

There on his phone screen was a picture of a debauched pie. And not just any pie. Jack knew it must be apple….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the problem with having a brain devoted to depicting realistic sex, with all its quirks and foibles. I had this gorgeously sexy scenario running through my head and running by its side was this little voice going, "you KNOW what would happen if someone did this in real life, no pretending Jack got off without any consequences." And, well, yes. Write all the fic for it you want but please do not try sweet BJ's at home.

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration in question (which I shamelessly stole for my fic): "his dick is suddenly Very Interested in being covered in pie and then swallowed by Bitty"
> 
> Except... (spoiler alert if you haven't read the Brunch Is... series yet).. that doesn't actually happen. So my brain went, "what if it did?" And this happened.
> 
> Started this way back at the beginning of June barely 24 hours after the inspiration was posted and just finished it up this week now that the halflings are finally back in school and I have teensy amounts of time here and there to write smut. I deliberately didn't re-read the fic that inspired this before finishing because I was worried about copying too much inadvertently.
> 
> Much shorter chapter 2- The Aftermath- up in the next day or so. Will not be nearly as fun as The Sex but it felt necessary because I am all about the realism.
> 
> Speaking of Realism- Yes, it's hard to get the seal and the suction and everything just right but the fizzy bubbles on the nipples without spilling everywhere trick is very real and very possible and every bit as much fun as it sounds. If you're not into drinking, sparkling grape juice replicates it nicely.
> 
> Unbeta'd and posted when very groggy and bleary-eyed so please let me know of any mistakes.


End file.
